


Baby, I'm Yours

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Birthday Sex, M/M, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: Lu Han loves Minseok as he is





	Baby, I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

> 2014 fic, originally published 4-20-2014

Lu Han loves Minseok as he is. Completely and utterly and desperately just _exactly_ as he is.

Lu Han loves him in as he is. In his _actuality_. He cherishes everything the elder is, everything the elder gives. And he _knows_ it's not really fair to expect anything else, anything more.

Because Lu Han loves him as he is, knows that Minseok loves him equally in turn. And Minseok doesn't have to love him in the exact same way, doesn't have to express himself with the same gestures, speak with the same reckless abandon. Minseok just has to _love_ him. Completely and utterly and desperately, too.

That's always been more than enough.

 

It's Lu Han's birthday.

 

And when it comes to celebration, Lu Han is prone to cliche, to melodramatic, reckless displays of affection. He is totally, tragically, almost theatrically sentimental.

But Minseok, he is decidedly, decadently, devastatingly sexual.

And Lu Han's been _thrumming_ with the promise of later. Of a Minseok filthy and deliberate and ravishing.

It's your birthday, he imagines Minseok murmuring, the words hot and husky against Lu Han's jawline, so how about I fuck you until you're sobbing for more, baby?

And he pictures Minseok whispering his name in reverent pants between quaking thrusts, murmuring that he loves him in pitchy, broken Mandarin as he takes Lu Han's cock into his hand, stroking him to completion.

And Lu Han's skin is too tight, and his mouth is too dry. Cock stirring in his pants at just the prospect, he goes through the motions—morning schedules, dance practice, birthday breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner—half-hard and so fucking ready to be taken, thoroughly and fervently as Minseok is wont to do.

 

But it's almost 8PM when Minseok disappears into his room. A good 15 minutes before he summons him with a text.

Lu Han trembles as he makes his way inside.

 

But Minseok isn't naked, splayed obscenely, with his hand around his cock and his lip caught between his teeth as his voice rasps over a dirty proposition. Instead he's fully dressed, slightly smeared eyeliner, unstyled pink hair framing his small, soft, face, his small, soft, hesitant smile. He lacks affectation, and he's fucking beautiful.

Lu Han blinks, and Minseok huffs out a laugh, hand scratching absently along his bare forearm.

"We're still—we're still gonna have sex," he breathes out, rushed. "So don't worry about that—any way you want, too—but I just—I just wrote you something first, okay?"

Minseok laughs again—breathy, pitchy with nerves—and motions for Lu Han to sit down. His fingers tense around a sheet of paper.

Lu Han tilts his eyes in Minseok's direction—in Minseok's _least favorite_ confused Lu face—and Minseok's own are fucking sparkling with something so tender.

"It's kinda cheesy, but I just—I never really—tell you how I feel, and you really deserve to know—ah—at least on your birthday—I can be cheesy for you on your birthday."

Lu Han loves him as he is. Just _exactly_ as he is. And he swallows slow and thick, emotional, at a Minseok that is trying for something he is not. For Lu Han's birthday.

He cherishes everything the elder is, everything the elder gives.

And he knows—he _knows_ it's not really fair to expect anything else, anything more. But Minseok is blinking up at him, clearing his throat, uncharacteristically shy.

Lu Han shifts on the mattress, looking up at him expectantly. Minseok furrows his eyebrows, eyes hesitant.

"I'm not very good at saying how I feel, not the way that you are. But I don't—I don't ever want you to doubt that I love you. I don't ever want you to doubt how I feel about you. You—you love me so _hard_ , Lu Han. So _strong_ , but I do, too. I promise, Lu Han. I love you so much. So fucking much. More than I've ever loved anybody before. More than—ah—more than I thought I was capable of loving. It _hurts_. My heart literally aches from it. From how much I want and need you, Lu Han."

Minseok pauses, throat bobbing, as he shifts.

"And I didn't—I didn't expect it. We weren't supposed to be serious, remember? It was just supposed to be a casual predebut thing—an experiment, a _distraction_ —until we got famous and could date all the idol boys?

"But now, I can't imagine wanting anything more. I can't imagine loving anybody else. I can't imagine not needing you in my life. You're honestly all I could ever hope for, Lu Han. And I can't believe that being fucking _horny_ and fucking _lonely_ are the reason I stumbled into the most beautiful thing with you, Lu Han. The most beautiful, most perfect love.

"And honestly, it freaks me out sometimes. Just how easily things have fallen into place and how perfectly you fit into my life. It's too easy. It's too precious to be this easy. But just the thought of forever, Lu Han, forever with _you_ , it keeps me going. It keeps me strong.

"And it's your birthday. And we're going to have sex. And it's going to be amazing. And I'm going to tell you I love you like, 50 more times. And you're gonna say it back, and we're gonna be so fucking happy, Lu Han. So fucking perfect together. Because we were _meant_ to be, I _know_ this. Wo ai ni."

Minseok looks up after a beat.

Lu Han's lower lip won't stop trembling, and his chest feels tight . The room is thick in the aftermath of Minseok's confession, and Lu Han's heart is overflowing at his words.

And he loves Minseok as he is. Just _exactly_. But Minseok is being sentimental and tender and vulnerable and his eyes are raw and beautiful and Lu Han feels so, so, so full.

Minseok puffs out his lips nervously before sucking the bottom one into his mouth. Lu Han chokes on a whimper. Minseok's eyebrows shoot up.

" _Lu Han_. Oh, it's not that—"

"Don't—" Lu Han shakes his head resolutely, blinking rapidly past the tears brimming in his eyes, collecting on his lashes. "It _is_ , Minseok."

"But it's _not_ —I just—wanted to put it into words—but it's not even that—"

  
"It's so _beautiful_. _You're_ so beautiful."

Lu Han's voice quivers and his shoulders shake as he tries to hold back a heaving sob. He gropes for Minseok blindly, just _needing_ , and the elder indulges easily. Falling beside him on the mattress, Minseok's arms wrap around him—tight and reassuring—and Lu Han buries his face into the crook of Minseok's neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling shakily against the warm skin.

"It wasn't—you weren't supposed to _cry_ , Lu." Exasperation bleeds into his tone, but it's undercut with fierce affection, soft eyes. Minseok's cups Lu Han's face in his hands, and the pads of his thumbs skate quickly underneath Lu Han's eyelashes, brushing away tears.

"I just—I know you're not—but you _did_ for my birthday," he manages. "And my heart just _hurts_. I love you so so much, Minseok. And I'm so happy right now."

"I love you, too," Minseok whispers, running his fingers through Lu Han's hair, petting back his bangs, thumbs lingering over his scalp. "And that's why I wanted to make it special," he breathes. His voice sounds thick. "I just wanted—I wanted—"

Lu Han nuzzles further into his skin, hiccuping embarrassingly as he squeezes him even tighter. He can feel the warm vibration of Minseok's slow, steady pulse against his lips.

Minseok whispers, after a beat, fingers shifting to ghost over his cheekbones, thumb away at his tear tracts. "So are we gonna fuck, or what?"

Lu Han huffs out a laugh, and Minseok drags him forward by the back of his neck, molding his lips against his. It's soft, sweet, and Lu Han's lips are left tingling, his eyelashes fluttering. He can taste tears. His own and Minseok's, too, he notes absently, drunkenly.

Minseok presses him back into the mattress with a soft sigh of his name. He skims over Lu Han's clothed body.

He ignites a fire—dizzy, slow burning, _thick_ —in Lu Han's veins.

In between searing whispers and languid, tender kisses to his forehead, his mouth, his neck, the top of his collarbone, Minseok peels off his clothes. Bunched and tossed carelessly aside, his shirt winds up somewhere near the headboard, his pants, socks, underwear get kicked in the general vicinity of the door. And Lu Han's body throbs with want, _need_ , for the sharp-eyed, pink-haired man smirking down at him.

Minseok glides down his body, wraps a fist, loose and teasing around his cock.

Eyes burning up at him, he laves slow kittenish licks along the head of his cock. He swirls his tongue in a passing caress, and Lu Han chases that wet warmth with a broken moan and the slow roll of his hips.

Minseok holds him down as he sucks him into his mouth.

It's almost painful. The playful glint in Minseok's eyes. The cock of his dark eyebrows. The flutter of his eyelashes in the dim light. As he sucks him inside that sharp, perfect mouth. He lets the outline press against his cheek, so it rounds against his erection. And _fuck_. Lu Han's fingers stumble over Minseok's scalp, sloppy as they attempt to anchor themselves as Minseok takes more into his mouth and bobs, setting a smooth, languid—too slow, too fucking slow—pace.

Lu Han cants his hips up, urging him faster, and Minseok hums. Lu Han arches sharply with a whimper.

Minseok's eyes twinkle up at him, and his mouth quirks in an almost smile even as it stretches wide and obscene over his flushed, aching erection. He moans Lu Han's name around his cock, and Lu Han fights the urge to come on the spot.

Minseok's fingers whisper over his navel, smooth over his thighs, before teasing lower. Lu Han whimpers. Minseok's answering smile is sharp.

"I—ah—I wasn't sure if you wanted—if you wanted—" His voice is husky, and _fuck_ Lu Han—Lu Han's _cock_ —is responsible for that. Minseok nuzzles almost absently into his cock before gliding up his body. Forehead to forehead. Minseok bites on the corner of his lower lip as he undulates deliberately, drags one of Lu Han's fingers down along his hips. " _How_ you wanted, Lu. But I'm—" Lu Han's fingernails scrape along his inner thighs, gliding smoothly over the telltale slickness. Lu Han groans, emboldened, fingers teasing over his entrance. Minseok's skin jumps, and he lets out a breathy sigh. "You just need to say _how_ , _birthday boy_."

The possibility is heady, the offer rare.

But Lu Han loves the way Minseok lurches inside of him, panting into his hair as he holds Lu Han through orgasm. Lu Han likes feeling like he's the only thing that matters, the only thing that Minseok can _possibly_ concentrate on as Minseok sinks in, stretches him open.

"Take control," he urges. "Make me feel loved. _Fuck_ me. Nice and slow."

Minseok smiles against his jawline. "I can do that."

His fingers scrape along his skin.

"Fuck you into the mattress," he whispers, nosing along his cheek. "So nice and slow, you _sob_ for more."

" _Please_."

 

Minseok is true to his word. He works him open. Unhurried but ruthless, the pads of his fingers pressing insistently, stretching thoroughly, as Lu Han rocks back. And he kisses him lazy, fleeting as he positions himself, presses inside.

It's slow. So slow that Lu Han thinks he might combust, be scorched alive with arousal. But he's begged for it, writhed for it, _earned_ it. And it's so good. So fucking good.

"Happy birthday," Minseok breathes, hands tight and forceful around his hips. They hold him down, and Lu Han moans, undulating, trying to fuck upwards as Minseok presses forward insistent and exquisitely big. Minseok swivels inside of him, dragging hotly against Lu Han's fluttering walls, before pulling back slow slow slow.

Lu Han scratches along his shoulder blades, and Minseok's nose collapses against his cheekbone, breath hot and damp as he shifts lazily. With a pant of Lu Han's name, Minseok's fingers tighten around his waist, and he pushes back in with a rough thrust.

And he starts to fuck him more thoroughly. Languid, but purposeful, _overwhelming_. Slow and deep, with quaking, bone-rattling kind of thrusts. The friction is delicious, achingly perfect. Lu Han is delirious with pleasure.

He can feel every distinct, pulsing inch, and Lu Han is overwhelmed with sensation, breathy, needy, _desperate_ , wanted, _loved_. There's an affirmation—an "I love you, Lu Han. I love you I love you I love you"— in every heaving thrust against grooved, delicate flesh. Lu Han revels in it, bucks for it with a breathless pleading fervor.

"I love you," Minseok reminds him, rocking forward, grinding down hard, rhythm broken as Lu Han wraps a weak arm around his shoulders, tugging him impossibly close. Lu Han is completely covered, completely ruined. Minseok pants into his skin. "I love you so fucking much—just as much, Lu. Just as much."

Minseok is the only thing that matters. All forceful thrusts and husky moans. Lu Han flushes with pleasure, with approval. And Lu Han whimpers up at him. Because Minseok is fucking beautiful, fucking decadent as he completely ravishes him. The dusty pink of his hair is falling heavy and dark into his eyes, and his eyes are dark and burning as his muscles shift easily beneath flushed, taut skin. He's haloed by the fluroscent light, and moisture glistens off of his red, red lips as he licks them over and over again in between soft moans of Lu Han's name.

Lu Han's fingers bite into his arms, skittering over their sheer trembling strength as Minseok braces himself over Lu Han's body. He fucks down, fucks Lu Han open and needy and loud and hot hot hot. He nudges insistently against Lu Han's prostrate, and Lu Han's head tips back, neck bared as he sobs.

Minseok bites down on his shoulder, affected, too, consumed by it just like him.

One small, calculating hand scrapes down his body, wraps tight around his cock. And Minseok's pressing so fucking hard against him, just just just where it needs to be, and he's stroking him fast and sloppy, the pad of his thumb dragging against the crown of his cock. Lu Han's brain short circuits, body trembling.

Minseok presses warm, succulent kisses along his throat. Peppers shorter, harder ones along his jawline. There's the fleeting press of his tongue, the passing scrape of his teeth, and Lu Han holds him there, elbow hooked tight around Minseok's sweaty back, fingers urgent along his shoulder blades. He whimpers, undulates into Minseok's fist, the devastating snap of Minseok's hips against his ass.

"Lu _Han_. Lu _ge_ ," he rasps, and Lu Han's moan stutters in his throat as he gives into the pleasure coursing through his veins.

He clenches around the thickness of Minseok inside of him as he goes lax, pliant, sated in his arms.

Lu Han moans weakly, and Minseok groans but keeps going.

"You think you can get hard for me again, Lu?" he murmurs. "You think if I keep going you can even come for me again?"

Lu Han whimpers at that. He's so _sensitive_ , and Minseok is just too much.

And it's too soon—should be— but Lu Han is _so_ turned on and Minseok is pressing right where he needs him. And his body responds automatically, stirring against Minseok's navel, dragging along his tummy. He groans reverently, and Minseok curses hotly.

He tries to take him into his fist again, but Lu Han sobs, neck weak as it thrashes from side to side. "I _can't_ , Minseok—it's too—I'll _die_."

Minseok continues to pound into him, mouthing at his jawline. And the searing wetness of Minseok's tongue along his sweaty skin, the hard press of his cock, the heat of his breath is enough to have him sobbing again.

"Don't die, Lu ge. Just —fuck— _come_. Come again. Come for me."

And _fuck_ if the scrape of his voice doesn't have Lu Han bucking upwards, desperate to comply, even if it's too much. Too much and not enough just _please, Minseok_.

"I can't," he wails, and Minseok does this languid roll of his hips. So fucking slow and fluid as he licks over his jawline, fucks him just exactly how needs.

But he can't. He fucking _can't_.

Even if he wants to. Even if he's desperate for it.

Minseok licks sloppy and hot along the column of his throat as he seizes suddenly, teeth painful as they scrape over his adam's apple, hips relentless, uncoordinated, _demanding_ as they stutter fuck him through Minseok's orgasm.

Lu Han claws along his back as he scrambles for purchase, and Minseok's body drags hot and soft across his aching erection.

Minseok turns to nuzzle at his cheek, one traitorous hand skimming down Lu Han's body. Lu Han intercepts it, twining their fingers together.

Minseok is panting into his mouth, eyes hazy and heavy-lidded. He drags their laced hands back to Lu Han's erection. Lu Han's hips jerk.

"I promised myself I'd make you come at least 5 times, Lu Han, and the others won't be back for the rest of the night," he tells him, thumb teasing along the base of his erection.

"I love you," Lu Han gasps out, dragging him closer, whimpering at the exquisite overstimulation. "So fucking much."

"Happy birthday," Minseok rasps as he strokes.


End file.
